The Wanderer's Odyssey
by VolnuttN7
Summary: He knew he wouldn't survive. Being exiled out with no food, water, supplies nor the skills to defend himself and survive made the Lone Wanderer's future short and bleak. He knew that. They knew that. And they threw him out anyway. His death was assured. Until fate would have a friendly Ghoul in a blue suit would walk by and give the Lone Wanderer the start he needed to survive.


**I do not own Fallout or anything related to Fallout. This is merely a fan project. All rights and disclaimers go to Bethesda. Did I say that right?**

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His body shook, his grip on his bat was loose. His palms sweated, his eyes were red, the sensation of throwing up and the weakness in his legs were overwhelming him. He looked at the Wasteland, his back pressed onto the wooden door. He was frightened, he wasn't ready. He enjoyed his life in the Vault, he didn't wanna go into the Wasteland, not this way. Not alone, not unprepared.

He swallowed roughly, his mind recalling the events that led up to his exile. How south it went. He remembered the nights they shared, the games they played, her embrace. The anger in her eyes and the hate in her voice stung him more than the hit in the face her Father inflicted onto him. He looked to his bat and to his clothes, both covered in the blood of radroaches, the security guards that blocked his path, the Overseer, and his own blood. Something in his mouth stung.

He wiped his mouth and looked at his hand, more blood. His tooth ached and he couldn't move his mouth without feeling a sharp pain that made him want to slump down and whine. He breathed, his light breathes turning deep and into a low animal like growl. He gritted the left side of his mouth, avoiding causing anymore unnecessary pain. He leaned on the rock face, walking closer to the view of the Wasteland, despair descending upon him. He stopped near the edge as the harsh facts that he couldn't survive out here. He cringed at the thought of the Vault as he saw the true nature of the people in the Vault. Butch's cowardice, the Overseer's insanity, foolishness, and one tracked mind. Amata's inability to understand that he didn't kill her Father willingly, that he forced his hand.

He gripped his bat tightly, the blood on his hand being slightly absorbed by the wood of the bat. He released a blood curdling scream that echoed into Megaton raising fear and anxiety in the metallic settlement. He continued screaming, swinging his bat into the rock face, breaking it in half. The screaming stopped, he slouched onto his knees as tears began to roll down.

"Hey, mind keeping it down?" The strained, ghastly voiced causing him to look up. It was a bloody zombie in a dirtied blue suit! He jumped back, pulling the pistol from his side and aiming it at the zombie, curiosity stopping him from pulling the trigger.

"Typical. See a Ghoul and your ready to blow his head off." The zombie said as he picked up the broken half of the bat, inspecting it and the blood on it.

"What's... what's a Ghoul?" The kid asked, causing the Ghoul to raise a non-existent eyebrow. He looked over the kid's outfit and saw from the 101 on his chest he was from a Vault. A newbie in the Wasteland? At that age? That was rare.

"Put it simply, we are people who didn't make it into the Vaults and got dosed with the heavy radiation and the unbearable heat. Some Ghouls were even from before the war. I'm not one of those." The kid lowered his pistol, deeming this person to not be a threat. He looked the kid over, seeing the amount of blood on his suit. Practically no part of his body was not covered in blood. Blood on the jumpsuit, blood on his face, blood on his hand, blood on his boots. He didn't even need to look in the kid's eyes to know he went through hell.

"Kid, look. You and I both know your hurt. So come with me back to my shack and I'll patch you up and we share stories over a hot cup of tea." The man offered, walking over to the drained Vault Dweller. He didn't resist as he was lifted onto his feet. He stumbled a bit, about to fall but felt a small tug on his jumpsuit keeping him up.

"I'm not carrying you back to my place. Walk on your own two feet." He obeyed, standing on his two feet but felt as though his legs would give at any moment. His chest felt heavy and his vision blurred. He rubbed his eyes, feeling weaker before opening them and seeing the Ghoul was walking away. He followed but couldn't get as close as he wanted to, staying the same distance away from the Ghoul, around three feet away. They walked for a while, going into the direction of Tenpenny Tower.

"Tea sounds good right about now."

"I lied about the tea."


End file.
